Hey all. Thanks for the reviews last chapter. Shoutouts to adebis980 for making me feel simultaneously honored and terrified; to eveningshades1107 for pointing out the fact that in my story it's entirely possible that there will be a randomly Carrie-esque scene with someone covered in blood; and to Romione4Life for suggesting that I could work for the show (although then I would probably just have the whole thing be Mona being awesome and Sparia making out). But seriously guys, your reviews are what keeps me going, and I appreciate every single word you say.

I've got some really cute stuff coming up for Spence and Tobes - interspersed with some angst and drama, of course - which I hope you're gonna enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed writing. But the first kiss is coming ever closer, and I really hope you guys like it when we get that far.

Also, thank you to everyone who's ventured their guesses as to what's up with Mona's project, Toby's wood, and the clues I dropped last chapter. You'll find out more about that soon; next chapter includes a slightly bigger clue, which no one picked up on last time.

Okay, apologizing in advance because clothing descriptions are one of my weakest points, but I hope you like the chapter anyway. Don't forget to leave a review, or PM me, or whatever, to let me know you like it. Us poor struggling fanfic writers live on reviews...

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"Are you sure it's not too much?" Spencer turns around so she can admire the dress from the back. It's shorter than she would like, a pale blue that somehow softens her features, swooping in at the hips and then flaring out a bit. She was self-conscious when she first tried it on, worried that some of the scars on her leg would show, but it's just long enough to cover them. Her high heels are uncomfortable at first, but she assumes she just needs to wear them in. After all, when was the last time she went to an event like this?

"No, it's perfect," Emily breathes from her vantage point on Spencer's bed. "You look gorgeous, Spence."

Although she tries not to, she internally flinches at the nickname. The last person to call her that was the person who had the least right to. But when Emily says it, there's none of the possessive jealousy, the insinuations that made her skin crawl. There's only affection, from someone whom she now considers a friend.

"Yeah, it's beautiful," Aria adds, emerging from the bathroom wearing a lacy black and red dress that nobody but her could get away with. The feather earrings manage to make the outfit somehow look less ridiculous, and Aria's confidence is just high enough for her to pull it off.

"Thanks." Spencer turns back to the mirror, taking in her full appearance. Her hair is swept back from face and held there with a few strategic bobby pins; a dusting of foundation and a touch of blush is enough to hide the fact that she hasn't been sleeping well lately. Around her neck she's wearing the necklace her sister bought her last year; it's silver, on a fine chain, with the outline of a heart hanging from it. She plays with that nervously, still not sure what she's getting herself into.

She's made a lot of progress, and she knows her old therapists would be proud – or possibly disbelieving, given how uncooperative she'd been in all their sessions. But it's a long road, maybe never-ending, and she's always scared she'll go one step too far and be flung ten paces back. But Emily and Aria have been great; they came over here after school so they could get ready together, and although she doesn't quite know how to say it, she appreciates the gesture. It's almost like it used to be, Before.

"So when is Toby picking you up?" Aria asks, glancing at the flower-shaped clock hanging on Spencer's wall.

"Seven," she replies, still looking at herself in the mirror. But now it's not so much with wonder as with apprehension. Most of her physical scars have faded, but there are a few that are a little more stubborn. Around each wrist is a thin, almost invisible, ring; it turns out that leaving handcuffs on for months at a time can cause more than psychological damage. One of her wrists has a bigger scar, an almost horizontal line from an incident she'd rather not remember. And then, below the folds of her dress, is something she's even more eager to hide.

Emily seems to sense the change in her manner, because the soft-eyed swimmer comes over to stand next to her, peering into the mirror and resting a comforting hand on her shoulder. Spencer inclines her head slightly, ever so slightly, to let her know that she noticed and appreciated the gesture. A moment passes, and then Emily smiles, turning back to her girlfriend and saying, "Tonight is going to be so much fun."

In the mirror, Spencer sees Aria smile. "Definitely," the smaller girl says. "Don't you think, Spence?"

She likes that nickname, she decides. And maybe if her friends say it often enough, she'll stop associating it with him, with the man who destroyed her life. Squaring her shoulders, she turns around, forcing her thoughts away from the past and toward the future. Toward tonight. "For sure," she says, and even manages to muster up a half-sincere smile, only dulled by the terror that comes from being about to go so far out of her comfort zone that she's not sure she'll ever be able to go back.

"Of course it'll be fun," Emily confirms. "She's going with Toby."

Aria waggles her eyebrows suggestively. "That's right. Congratulations, by the way. He's quite a catch – if you're into that kind of thing."

She and Emily share a giggle, while Spencer tries to process this. She's going to the dance with Toby, but is she actually going with him? She hadn't thought to clarify whether they were going as friends or whether this was a date, and now that thought actually makes her nervous. It's been a long time since she felt this way about someone, and even longer since she acted on it. The feelings are so unfamiliar that she feels the need to hide them, keep them to herself.

"We're not dating," she says, and the other girls share a look. "Really. We're just friends. That's all."

She can tell the other two don't buy it, but they also know better than to push it. Although everyone's been so welcoming and understanding, she can tell that they don't quite consider her to be one of them. There's something that separates her, something that singles her out as different, and everyone, although they may not even be aware of it, treats her differently. She's noticed the hesitation before they talk to her, like they think every word will set her off. She's seen the way that they avoid certain topics, often clumsily changing their conversation, just in case they hit a nerve. But she doesn't say anything, because she knows that they're trying, and so is she. And maybe someday they'll finally be able to connect.

At about half past six, Emily and Aria leave, all smiles and promises to catch up with her at the dance. As they drive away, she leans against the doorframe, watching the car speed off down the road and trying not to let her thoughts get the better of her.

"Wow."

At the sound of the voice she turns around, and sees her sister standing there.

"I look ridiculous, don't I?" Spencer asks, looking down at herself in the dress that Hanna had convinced her to buy.

"Quite the opposite, actually." Melissa smiles, and then takes a couple of steps closer, hesitates. Then she wraps her arms around Spencer, seemingly taking both of them by surprise.

When they pull apart, Spencer stares at her. "What was that for?"

"It's just nice seeing you happy," Melissa replies, her cheeks starting to turn pink. She opens her mouth a couple of times, then just shakes her head slightly, smiles again, and walks away.

Before everything, before Wren, the two Hastings children rarely interacted of their own free will, unless it was to argue or boast. They were both competitive, driven, and stubborn, so conversations between them were often antagonistic in nature. But when Spencer had come home, finally, things had changed. Melissa had started treading carefully around her, and after endless nights spent trying to comfort her damaged younger sister, she'd learned to temper her impatience and let herself be softer. And Spencer, although she doesn't know how to say it, is grateful. Slowly they've been getting back to their old selves around each other, the uncomfortable silences filled once again by playful bickering.

Now Spencer stares after her sister, wishing she had the words to thank her. Before she can contemplate whether she should go after her or let the moment pass, her parents appear from the kitchen. They take one look at her and her mother actually starts crying; her father's smile, meanwhile, is wider than she's seen it in months.

"You look beautiful," her mother says, wiping away tears of happiness.

Her father holds his arms out, beckoning, and Spencer falls into his embrace, now trying to hold back tears herself. For the longest time she'd given up on ever having a normal life; all those things she used to dream about seemed so far away. Now, maybe, they're in her reach again. Her mother joins in, making it a three-way hug, and Spencer's heart swells with happiness beyond words.

Finally they break apart, share a smile, and then her parents hurry off to find a camera so they can capture this moment; Spencer doesn't mind, although she knows she's always going to remember. She doesn't like having her photo taken, but she humors them, striking poses and pulling faces while they snap her picture from every angle. When she was gone, she knows they went through hell. They thought they'd never see this moment, they thought they'd never ever see their daughter again, and now they can't believe it's actually happening.

With all the cheer in the Hastings house, Spencer finds herself feeling considerably better. When she first started at Rosewood High, she'd felt like a complete outsider. She still feels like sometimes, when she just can't connect and she struggles to relate to people – and she can tell that they're having a hard time relating to her too – but overall the feelings have faded. When she first heard about the Charity Ball, she'd been silently adamant that she wouldn't go, knowing that it would be a disaster and probably the catalyst for yet another nightmare. But now she's actually excited, and if she can ignore her scars and the looks of pity she's bound to get, she could actually have a good time.

"Look at you," her mother says. "You've come so far. I'm so proud of you."

Coming from someone who rarely talks about anything more emotional than whether they should have pasta or lasagne for dinner, it means a lot. It means so much, in fact, that Spencer thanks her, excuses herself, and hurries up to her room.

Before she has time to collect herself, the tears start. She closes the door behind her and leans against it, covering her mouth with her hand to stop herself from crying out. She cries for so long that it washes away her makeup, and when she finally catches her breath it takes her the best part of ten minutes to reapply it. It's only when she's dabbed that last bit of blush on her cheeks that she realizes she was crying from happiness, but also, in a way, from fear. She's not used to feeling this good, and she's terrified that it will soon be snatched away from her. Logically – and Spencer does love logic – she knows the universe doesn't work like that, and she has every right to be happy. But on a deeper level, one she can't seem to argue with, she feels like this happiness is only temporary, and when it disappears it will only make everything hurt more.

But then she thinks of her friends – she can think the word without any hesitation now, although it still feels slightly strange – and all the things she has to look forward to, and she thinks she'll take some heartache if it means she can be happy, even if it's just for a while. And despite what happened today after school, when the teacher called her back, she is happy.

The sound of her name drifting up the stairs pulls her from her reverie. She glances at the clock; seven exactly. Which means that Toby's here. Giving herself what she hopes is a confident look in the mirror, and mouthing to herself You can do this, she grabs her purse, adjusts her necklace, and then leaves her room, pausing only briefly to take a few steadying breaths.

She pauses again at the top of the stairs, when she catches sight of Toby. He's wearing a suit that looks like it's just the wrong size, with a tie that's just a little bit lopsided, but the only thing she really notices is the way he looks at her. It's pleasant surprise followed by pure adoration, and it makes her think of every love poem she's ever read, every song she's heard, every dream she's ever had. Nobody has ever looked at her like that, and she's never felt this way before.

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Thoughts, theories, comments, criticisms? Hit me with anything, I love hearing from you guys.